


Attitude

by A_simple_lee



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Irondad, Tickle fic, Tickling, ticklish!peter, ticklish!peter parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:01:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_simple_lee/pseuds/A_simple_lee
Summary: Tony and Peter are working in the lab, which is always a recipe for disaster.





	Attitude

“Woah! DUM-E! Little help here!” A slight thump had Peter turning around from the lab counter to see Tony Stark hanging by his arm, suspended by a string of web. They’d been working on perfecting a new formula for his shooters, and had been making solid progress…until then.

“What happened?”

Tony paused from swatting away DUM-E’s fire extinguisher to give a half-hearted shrug. “I might’ve misfired it.”

“Oh. Hang on-” Peter grabbed the emergency supply of web dissolvant they’d developed - although this hadn’t been its intended purpose - and quickly applied it to the string holding Tony up, stepping back to finish up his work on the other web shooter.

He heard Tony crash to the ground with a groan a couple seconds later, and tried to ignore it for the sake of his mentor’s dignity. It was impossible to completely ignore it, though.

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?”

“M’fine, why?”

“Well- I just figured- you - your…joints? I don’t know.” That got an eyebrow raise.

“Are you calling me old?”

“Uh…maybe?” There wasn’t exactly a kind way of phrasing it, Peter supposed.

“Old? Really?” Tony cracked his knuckles, placing the web-shooter aside. “Alright then. I’ll show you old. You have five seconds to run. Five…”

“What- why- huh?” Peter had no idea where Tony’s sudden playful burst had come from, but he wasn’t about to stop it in its tracks.

“Four…”

The pair of them had been working all day, and he supposed a light break could only be of benefit.

“Three…”

Yet, seeing the playful shine to Tony’s eyes did make him worry just a bit. So he hovered - part curious, part cautious.

“Two…” He took a couple steps back just in case.

“One. Geez, kid, you’d think, being so smart, you’d know when to take a headstart.” With that, Tony lunger towards him, and Peter took off at a sprint; he didn’t get very far before two strong arms wrapped around him, and hands began tasering his sides. Peter yelped, scrambling to get free with little success.

“Mr- ahahaha- Mr Stark!! Nohohohoho!”

“What’s the matter? Am I too fast for an old person?” Tony was grinning from ear to ear, not once showing mercy as he darted his hands around Peter’s torso, knowing from experience how to elicit the high-pitched giggles that were flowing from the teen’s lips.

He fluttered a couple of fingers over Pete’s neck, laughing at the squeal it produced, before moving to attack his ribs, counting each one with his fingers. Peter, at this point, was in stitches, hunched over in laughter.

“Ihihit tihihickles!” Too much time had passed for it to be a proper reply to Tony’s question, but Peter had spent the past minute trying to overcome his giggles, so it was hardly of much concern to him.

“I know.” Tony replied, trying not to bust into hysterics of his own at the giggly whine he received as a response. The kid was blushing, legs kicking in the air more than they were on the ground. “Alright, I’ll stop, if you say sorry.”

“SORRY! Sorry, ihihi’m sohohorry!!” It was so rushed and high pitched, interspersed with giggly hiccups, that Tony took a couple of seconds to register it. He reluctantly let Peter go, keeping a hand on his shoulder to check he was alright.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeheah. You’re the worst.”

He gave Peter a final side poke as a warning. “Careful. Now, are you gonna call me old again?”

“No!”

“Awesome. So could you help me fix this webshooter?”

The pair returned to their places over Peter’s gear, music from the radio acting as a backdrop for the jokes they traded over their hours of work. It was a good evening.


End file.
